Holidays with Lucifer
by IDieOnTheInside
Summary: Hanging around the fallen archangel isn't fun, it's full of torment. These short chapters are a peek into what hanging out with Lucifer during the holidays is like.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Lucifer.**

 **I wrote these chapters in order of holiday, not in chronological order. Some chapters are before Lucifer meets Sam, and some are with Sam.**

 **I know the prologue doesn't seem like much, but I promise it picks up in the next chapter. Enjoy!  
**

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Hell is known for its endless torture and limitless pain. Some would guess that lying on the racks while a demon flays their skin would be the worst kind of torture. Others would say being drowned in a vat of acid is the worst place to spend eternity. Even others still would argue that the simple act of waiting in a cell for the next round of torture would drive anyone insane.

In actuality, the most dreaded place, the place of whispers, the one place all demons (even Alistair) would fight tooth and nail to stay far away from, is the very center of Hell.

Why is the center of Hell the worst possible place to end up?

The only reason _anyone_ is sent to the center of Hell (no one goes of their own free will, they are sent there) is to babysit Lucifer.

At the very core of Hell is Lucifer's Cage. Lucifer has been in that cage since the dawn of time, maybe even before that. He gets bored, nothing to do, no one to torment except the poor demon standing watch next to his cage.


	2. New Year's

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

 **This chapter is pre-Sam.**

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Intestines hung from the top of the cage like streamers, the occasional drop of blood falling to the floor. Bones spelled out "HAPPY NEW YEAR" on the wall above the refreshments table. The table itself had inverted skulls, ready to be filled with the drinks nearby.

As Lucifer looked over the assortment of celebratory champagne laid out on the table, he sighed dramatically. Another year, another 365 days of boredom.

"Sir? The countdown clock is here." A voice calls from outside the cage.

Lucifer peers through the bars of his cage. A huge clock counting down the minutes until midnight stood facing him, doing nothing to alleviate his depression.

"Sir?" A tentative voice asks. "Is it to your liking?"

Lucifer's gaze flicks from the clock to the newest demon they have guarding his cage. He doesn't know why they even bother having someone stand by him. It's not like they do anything.

He turned around, leaning his back to the cage bars. "It's fine."

Lucifer picked up the party hat lying on the table and placed it on his head. No point in moping about this prison of his. Lucifer was going to enjoy the last couple of minutes leading up to the New Year.

"Let's party!"

Lucifer spent the next half hour or so pouring champagne into his skull-cup and downing the contents. He even convinced the demon standing watch to play a drinking game with him.

The clock only had ten seconds left. Loudly, Lucifer drunkenly shouted, "TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! Hic! FIVE! FOUR! THRRREE! TWO! ONE!"

Lucifer chugged the champagne, some of the liquid spilling down his chin. "Happy New Year!"

With a snap of his fingers, the decorations were gone. The only thing left to show for the party was the obnoxious clock outside the cage.

A suddenly sober Lucifer stood alone in his prison. "What is _your_ New Year's Resolution?" He asked the demon outside.

Swallowing loudly, the demon responded, "W-why, to serve you b-better, sir."

Lucifer nodded. "Come here." When the demon approached, Lucifer glared at him, his eyes glowing red. "My resolution is simple. GET ME OUT OF THIS GOD DAMNED CAGE!"

The demon cowered.

Lucifer smiled. "I don't ask for much, do I? No? Didn't think so. All I ask for, and it's the same thing every year, mind you, is to be freed. And what do you do? NOTHING! You and the other demons do nothing but sit on your lazy asses while I rot away in _this_!" He motioned at the cage around him.

"This year," Lucifer glowered, "something will change. _This_ year, I'm taking matters into my own hands. Go tell Azazel I want to speak to him. _Privately_."

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 **I know technically no demon had seen Lucifer before he was sprung from the cage the first time, but, for the sake of my story, I went a tad off script.**


	3. Valentine's Day

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

 **This chapter is post-Sam.**

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The fallen angel was practically buzzing with excitement. It was Valentine's Day, and that meant one thing: chocolate! Lucifer loved getting chocolate almost as much as he loved when demons groveled.

Lucifer paced back and forth, placing dead roses around his cage. Satisfied, he sat down on a red loveseat. His cage may be trapped in the depths of Hell, but that didn't mean Lucifer couldn't twist reality to make his little home cushy.

A glass of red wine in hand, Lucifer leaned back and waited expectantly for the chocolate to come pouring in.

Minutes passed and nothing happened. Annoyed, Lucifer turned to the demon guarding him today. "Where is my chocolate? I will NOT have a chocolate-less Valentine's Day!"

The demon shifted back and forth nervously. "It's supposed to be here soon, sir."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. 'Soon' in Hell could mean anywhere from one second to one century.

"I want my chocolate NOW. Find someone and make it happen. TODAY!" The demon scurried out of the room, leaving Lucifer by himself.

He rubbed his temples. Why did he have to do everything by himself? Snapping his fingers, a box of chocolates appeared in his lap. Hell chocolate wasn't as good as the chocolate upstairs; it was one of the only good things the worthless humans created.

As Lucifer munched on his chocolatey goodness, he thought about what was happening above. Did Sam miss him? They used to have the best Valentine's Days together.

Lucifer gave Sam a box of chocolates, only to have him open it and see it filled with maggots, bugs, and sometimes a real heart. He did that one many times, filling the box with something different, more disgusting, each time.

Sam thought that he was safely back home, hanging out in some bar with his brother. Sam and not-Dean (Lucifer pretending to be Dean) joked around, not-Dean hitting on some girl so it seemed more realistic. Then, when Sam fully believed he was safe and sound, Lucifer had everyone start to die, blood pouring out of their eyes, their screams piercing his very soul. When everyone had dropped dead, Lucifer showed Sam his present. The bodies of the dead had fallen into the shape of a heart. "Happy Valentine's Day!" He shouted at Sam's pale face.

Lucifer also played around with pulling Sam's heart out a couple of times, but that one usually killed the boy. It wasn't as much fun tormenting him when he died during the process.

Lucifer was pulled out of his reminiscing by the sound of footsteps.

"Sir, I've got your chocolate."

Looking through the bars of his cage, Lucifer saw a huge box of chocolates. "It's about damn time. Feed them to me."

The demon sighed and walked over to the cage. One by one he took a chocolate out of the box and pushed it through the small opening in the bars into Lucifer's awaiting mouth.

Once the box was empty, Lucifer fell back onto the loveseat, content. Closing his eyes, he called out, "Michael, are you sure you don't want some chocolate?"

The archangel gave Lucifer a loud "harrumph."

"Okay, party pooper." Lucifer smiled, thinking back to the fun times he had with Sam.


	4. Saint Patrick's Day

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Lucifer is not mine, nor is Supernatural.**

 **This chapter is pre-Sam.**

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Lucifer smirked as the demon ran away from his cage. Why did he have to be so pretentious? All the demon did was wear his usual black suit, but noooo, Lucifer wanted him to put on a green suit for the holiday.

The demon came back five minutes later dressed in a green suit.

"Much better." Relief shone on the demon's face.

"What now sir?"

Lucifer looked around his cage. Skulls painted green created "four skull clovers" on the walls, every bit of furniture was an obnoxious green, and Lucifer was wearing the "Pinch Me and I'll kick you in the Shamrocks" t-shirt a demon gave him last year.

"Now, I need alcohol." With a snap of his fingers, a bar appeared in front of Lucifer. He sat down on one of the barstools and picked up a beer. Raising his foamy mug, he called, "Cheers," and downed the amber colored liquid.

Lucifer continued to down alcoholic drinks, one after the other, in spirit of the holiday.

Drunk, he called to the demon outside, "Do you like me, Frank?"

The demon in question, whose name was _not_ Frank, rolled his eyes. "Of course sir."

Lucifer flopped down on the green couch, beer sloshing out of the cup and onto his shirt. "Nah man. What I meant was, uh, do you think I'm a good person?"

The demon, much used to Lucifer's drunken questions, answered, "You're the ruler of Hell, sir."

Lucifer wasn't satisfied. "Do you think I'm a good ruler? Do you, uh, do you-" a loud belch –"think I'm fit to be ruler of Hell?"

Lucifer had to be at the point where he'd forget everything tomorrow, the demon reasoned. Why not give it to 'im?

"Sir, in all honesty, you are not fit to rule Hell. You are childish and, locked up as you are, you're useless to us. Honestly, the only reason you even HAVE demons down here watching over you is to punish us."

Lucifer, suddenly not drunk anymore, stood up, eyes burning red. "I thought you were a backstabbing piece of shit."

The demon was confused, and extremely scared. Lucifer, THE Lucifer, was mad at HIM. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Damn it, he was supposed to be drunk!

The demon voiced as much. "But, you were drunk!"

Lucifer laughed. "It would take _much_ more than a few beer cases to get an angel drunk. I'd need to drink an entire liquor store, at _least_."

The demon frowned. Lucifer seemed awfully cheery to have just heard him be called a child.

"DANTE!" Lucifer yelled. A demon, black hair slicked back, sashayed into the room.

"Sir?" His smug smirk really got onto the demon.

"You were right, he is a traitor. Give him to the Hellhounds for a few days, and then get Ruby to use that knife I gave her on him."

The demon blanched. Dante bowed low. "Of course, sir."

The demon was dragged, screaming, out of the room.


	5. April Fool's Day

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural or the sassy Lucifer. *sigh***

 **Sorry for the short chapter, but I just HAD to end it where I did.**

 **This chapter is during Sam's visit in Hell.**

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Sam sighed. It was so good to be back in the motel room, lying on the motel bed. Dean had picked a nicer room this time since it was Sam's birthday, and, boy, were these beds nice.

The shower turned off, and Dean walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. "Your turn Sammy."

Sam had didn't have a problem with Dean calling him Sammy anymore, but something about the way he said it made Sam's skin crawl. Sitting up in bed, Sam figured all he needed was a hot shower, clean off the gunk.

As Sam walked into the bathroom, Dean called, "Good luck getting any hot water."

Sam shut the bathroom door and turned the shower on. He undressed quickly and hopped under the burning spray. Sam stood in the shower, the water cascading down his shoulders, and considered the most recent events.

Something felt off about how Dean said his nickname, like it was said without love or something, but that was stupid and really cheesy. Then there was the quip about the hot water. Dean's showers take five minutes, tops. Maybe Sam was being paranoid, or maybe Dean just wanted Sam out of the room so he could prepare a birthday surprise. But when did Dean do anything more than buy Sam a corndog for his birthday...

A loud pounding on the door brought Sam from his thoughts. "C'mon princess, you shouldn't waste the day in there!"

Sam pushed the doubts from his mind and quickly cleaned himself. Six minutes later he was dressed, hair dried and shoes tied.

Dean sat on the bed closest to the windows, a present in hand.

'That's odd.' Sam thought. 'Why is Dean sitting on my bed?'

Sam sits on Dean's bed, the one closest to the door, and stares at his brother. He looked like Dean, sounded like Dean, hell, he even smelled like Dean. Sam decided he was paranoid and cocked an eyebrow at his brother.

"So, what's the box for?"

Dean grinned, and, for a second, it seemed almost evil. "It's your present, Sammy." Again, it didn't sound right.

Sam's heart started to pound loudly in his ears. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He swallowed and tried to remain calm. "Dean, you didn't have to."

Dean (was it really Dean?) handed the box over to Sam. "Of course I did Sammy. We had a bit of spare cash and I decided to spend it on you."

That wasn't Dean. They NEVER had spare cash. EVER.

Sam threw the box down. "What have you done to Dean?!"

Not-Dean looked angry. "What the Hell did I mess up _this_ time?"

Sam was confused. "This time?"

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Sam sighed. It was so good to be back in the motel room, lying on the motel bed. Dean had picked a nicer room this time since it was Sam's birthday, and, boy, were these beds nice.

Dean walked into the motel room, bags of fast food in hand. "Happy birthday Sammy! I got chicken, grilled for your healthy ass, greasy fries, everybody loves fries, aaannnnnddddddd... PIE!"

Sam had didn't have a problem with Dean calling him Sammy anymore, but something about the way he said it made Sam's skin crawl. As Dean placed the food on the table, Sam shrugged and walked over.

"Pie, huh? And, is that for me, or for you?" Sam raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey, just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I have to suffer." Dean shot back playfully. "Eat up."

After dinner, Dean reached under the table and pulled out a box held together with duct tape. "Happy Birthday Sammy."

Again, the way Dean said Sammy was weird, but Sam just brushed it off. Pulling out his pocket knife, Sam cut the duct tape and pulled the lid off the box. He threw the box onto the floor, gagging at the contents.

Inside the box was the dismembered head of his brother. It opened its eyes and shouted, "Happy birthday Sammy!"

"APRIL FOOLS!" Sam was suddenly back in the cage, Lucifer laughing beside him. "Boy, you should've seen the look on your face! HA!"

Sam backed into a corner. He wasn't free. Of course not. That would explain why Dean, er, not-Dean, seemed off. It was Lucifer the whole time.

Lucifer's laughing was subsiding. "Oh, it was _so hard_ to get it right! You figured me out, how many times? Hmm, probably about sixty."

Sam was confused, at least until the memories came flooding back into him. Not-Dean acting strange, little quirks being ignored, saying 'Sammy' wrong...

Sam stared down the fallen angel. "You never got him right, ya know. You never tricked me 100%."

Lucifer stopped laughing, eyes burning red. "Guess I have something to work on, don't I?"


	6. Fourth of July

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine, I just play around with it.**

 **This chapter is during Sam's visit to Hell.  
**

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Sam held the box of fireworks, nearly bouncing from the excitement. Dean had somehow gotten fireworks for the Fourth of July this year, something dad would never let them do. Setting the box down, Sam turned to Dean.

"Got your lighter?"

Dean smiled, pulling it out. He lit the firecracker in Sam's hand, then the one in his own. As the explosions sounded loudly above their heads, Sam turned to his brother.

"Thanks Dean. This is great." Sam hugged his brother.

Suddenly, the pressure on Sam's back increased. "Dean?! Dean, you're hurting me!"

A deep laugh, and Sam's blood ran cold. "I'm not Dean."

"Sammy, we're here. Wake up little man." Sam jolted awake, sighing in relief as he saw he was sitting safely in the Impala, fireworks in his lap. He got out of the car, ran over to the driver's side, and hugged Dean tightly.

"Whoa man, what's up with you? It's just a couple of fireworks." Dean pushed Sam away and picked up the fireworks, walking towards a clearing. "C'mon."

Sam marveled at the fireworks above his head, the bright colors cascading down around him.

Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Do you want to light the next one?"

When Sam nodded his head eagerly, Dean handed him the lighter. Sam ran up to the box and lit the fireworks inside. "Fire in the hole!"

As Sam turned to go back to Dean, he tripped and kicked the box over. Sam watched in horror as the firework made a beeline straight towards his brother.

The firework exploded on Dean, the explosion ripping chunks of flesh from his bones.

"DEAN!" Sam bolted up.

"Sam? What's the matter?" Dean's concerned voice asked from Sam's right.

Sam turned, half expecting to see Dean's dismembered head next to him, sighing in relief when he saw Dean sitting on the hood of the Impala.

Realizing he was sitting on the grass, Sam stood up.

"Sam?" Dean was concerned.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. Dean hated when he got all sappy.

"Uh, it was, uh, nothing really." Sam mumbled.

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Sam, one second you were relaxing, staring at the goddamned stars, and the next thing I know you are screaming my name."

Dean fixed Sam with a tell-me-what's-wrong-now look. Sam sighed. "I had a, a, a bad dream, okay?"

Dean jumped off the Impala's hood. "How about we light up some fireworks?"

Sam smiled, then his face fell. "Dad never lets us light fireworks."

Dean smiled. "Dad's on a hunt. Let's go get some fireworks."

Sam held the box of fireworks, nearly bouncing from the excitement. Dean had actually gotten fireworks! Sam turned to Dean.

"Got your lighter?"

Dean smiled, pulling it out. He lit the firecracker in Sam's hand, then the one in his own.

Sam blanched, remembering his 'dream.' "Dean, be careful!"

Dean laughed. "Worrying is my job, Sammy."

Sam relaxed, albeit only slightly. Dean was safe, it was all a dream.

"Can you light the rest of the fireworks?" Sam asked sheepishly.

Dean cocked an eyebrow, but went over to the box and lit the fireworks. Running back to Sam, he turned around and watched as colorful explosions filled the night sky.

Sam loved fireworks. He had a huge grin plastered on his face. He looked over at Dean, ready to thank him for this. Dean was still, unusually so.

Sam stepped in front of his brother and fell back, gasping. Half of Dean' s face was burned; the other half was slack, eyes glazed over.

"Why does this keep happening?!"

Lucifer's never really celebrated the American Independence Day before, but this year he had made an exception.


	7. Halloween

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural *SIGH* if only...**

 **This chapter is while Sam is in the cage.**

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Lucifer practically danced around the cage as he decorated. Halloween was his favorite holiday; hell, it was practically his birthday (being born before time, he doesn't have a _real_ date of birth). Intestines hung from the top of the cage like streamers. The punch bowl had eyes floating in it instead of ice. Skulls and other bones were on the walls, complementing the bloodstain picture hanging above the couch.

Humming to himself, Lucifer carved his pumpkin. There would be a pumpkin carving contest later, and he won every year. Lucifer wasn't planning on losing this year. As he carefully sketched with his carving knife, Lucifer thought he heard a noise. Using his peripheral vision, the fallen angel saw the demon 'guarding' him scooting closer.

"Need anything?" The demon jumped.

"N-no sir."

Lucifer smiled wider. "You weren't trying to sneak a peek at my carving, were you?"

The demon blanched. "O-of c-course not, sir."

Oh how Lucifer loved messing with the demons! They terrify so easily. "Then you won't mind this." A snap of his fingers, and Lucifer was hidden from view by a black curtain.

A timid voice sounded from outside. "S-sir? You're not really supposed to hide yourself from view..."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, still carving his pumpkin. "Then come in here and take the curtain away."

Hours later, Lucifer stepped out of his mini-curtained area, the pumpkin still hidden in its folds. He looked around the cage, satisfied with his masterpiece, yet disappointed with the way the cage was decorated. With a snap of his fingers, Sam appeared on wall opposite the punch, hands and feet tied to the cage spread-eagle style. A table appeared next to him, silver shining in the candlelight.

Much better. Now he had entertainment _and_ music, once he started throwing the knives into the youngest Winchester.

Turning to the demon outside his cage, Lucifer called out, "Go get the other demons who dare to challenge my pumpkin. I'm ready to party!"

As the demon left, Lucifer felt someone walk up to him. "Is torturing the boy really necessary?" Michael asked.

"Look who decided to stop moping around. Is it because it's my birthday, brother?"

Michael snorted. "You have no day of birth. The closest thing you have is your day of creation, and that was before time. No one celebrates you."

Lucifer turned to face the angel behind him. "Don't ruin this day for me. You are in MY domain, in case you have forgotten, and it could just as easily be YOU up there. Sam just happens to scream better than you."

Michael stiffened. "How dare-"

The archangel was interrupted as demons flowed into the room, crowding around the cage. Lucifer stuck out his tongue childishly at Michael and reached under the curtains to grab his pumpkin masterpiece.

"Show me the competition."

Pumpkins were set out in front of the cage, lined up so everyone could see them. There was realistic heart that seemed to beat with every flicker of the candle inside the jack-o-lantern, a carving of an evil face with the lips curling at the end and a mouth full of sharp teeth, a zombie pumpkin, and a dragon. Lucifer placed his pumpkin on a table next to the wall of the cage, positioning the pumpkin to face outwards. He smiled in satisfaction as every last demon gasped in horror and took an involuntary step back.

Lucifer's pumpkin was a guy's face. Who the man was didn't matter; what mattered was the pumpkin-guy's face had a zipper going from his forehead to his chin. The zipper was opened halfway, pumpkin brains hanging out of his forehead. It was a gruesome sight to behold. There was no debate, it was obvious Lucifer won the pumpkin carving contest.

He whooped in victory and took a shot at the poor Winchester. The knife sunk deep into Sam's left bicep; his screams echoed throughout the room.

Lucifer reclined back in the couch, content. He winked at Michael. "What a happy birthday indeed."


	8. Thanksgiving

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own Supernatural, I just borrow.**

 **I'm going on vacation so I decided to make this the LAST CHAPTER! Thanks for reading, enjoy! Until the next story!  
**

 **This chapter is set post-Sam.**

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Wanting a fun holiday shouldn't be too much to ask for, but for Lucifer, it seemed having a happy Thanksgiving was not happening.

Sam had a memory in Heaven that Lucifer would mess around with from time to time, making his food vile and rotten or turning the poor little girl who invited him over against him. Making new memories, literally, was a fun game Lucifer loved to play.

Lucifer also enjoyed making a whole Thanksgiving meal entirely out of Sam parts. Blood-gravy, lung-turkey, heart-ham, small intestine-stuffing, eye-rolls, large intestine-casserole, kidney-pie, and so-on.

Now Sam was gone, and Lucifer's source of entertainment was a big, fat nothing. Well, he did have Michael, but he was the definition of stick-in-the-mud, add in a little buzzkill, then top it off with a dash of know-it-all.

Maybe Lucifer could do something about that rod stuck up his brother's ass...

"Michael! Help! I'm in desperate need of your assistance!" Lucifer's dramatic pleas were left unnoticed.

Frowning, Lucifer tried again. "MICHAEL! Get your feathery ass over here before I go search for you myself!"

One annoyed archangel popped in front of the scheming archangel. "I am not amused. Why can't you spend time torturing the guard that's always outside rather than bother me? This cage _is_ big enough for the two of us. Sadly."

Lucifer playfully pouted. "C'mon. Don't you love me? Even if you don't love _me_ , I love _you_. Let me show you just how much." With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer trapped Michael in a cage.

Crossing his arms, Michael stared at the angel before him. "Is this what you have to do to be entertained? Trap me in a cage whilst I'm trapped in a cage?"

Lucifer smiled. "While this happens to be funnier than doing nothing, it has a purpose: to stop you from seeing what I'm doing." Another snap and the mini-cage had a soundproof curtain around it, blocking Michael from seeing and hearing what Lucifer was up to.

He got to work. A table, two chairs, a chandelier, and food as far as the cage could stretch. Only the best for his brother. Lucifer smiled at his work, ready to show Michael. Only one thing left to do: taste test.

Lucifer sampled each dish, happy with how everything turned out. Happy with all but one dish...

"I NEED A TURKEY IN HERE. NOW!" The demon outside his cage scrambled to go find a suitable turkey while Lucifer paced in the cage.

"Sir, your turkey." The demon presented the turkey to the fuming angel.

Lucifer stared at the demon in front of him. "Well? Give it to me!"

The demon shifted his feet. "But sir, I cannot fit the whole turkey through the bars."

"I don't care HOW you do it; just give me the damned turkey!"

The turkey was pulled into pieces and shoved through the bars. Lucifer placed the small turkey bits onto a plate and set it on the food table.

"Time to get Michael!"

Michael was less than pleased when Lucifer finally let him out of the mini-cage. "I will-"

"Shut up and come here." Lucifer interrupted Michael's threat, grabbing his hand and leading him to the table in the same excited manner of a small child.

"What in... the..." Michael's protests trailed off as he looked at the array of food Lucifer had set out.

"Happy Thanksgiving brother!"

Michael turned to see Lucifer smiling at his side. "But... what... how... Why are you being so nice? Am I going to get poisoned by these dishes?"

Lucifer laughed. "That's a fun idea, but no. I just decided to do something nice." Seeing Michael's incredulous look, he added, "What? Can't I do something nice for once? We _are_ family, you know."


End file.
